


48. Home Again

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [48]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings for heavy verbal humiliation, anal rose, wax play, electrical play, semen ingestion and rimming</p>
    </blockquote>





	48. Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for heavy verbal humiliation, anal rose, wax play, electrical play, semen ingestion and rimming

Stephen wakes early, as normal, however, despite some tentative wriggling on Stephen's part, Antony is clearly not ready to. Hardly surprising, he's had a heavy two weeks away from home and he's come home injured. Slipping carefully from the bed Stephen resettles the covers around his lover and pads from the room.

He busies himself with some chores, takes a shower, shaves and then checks in on Antony - who's starting to move, so Stephen perches on the edge of the bed and waits to see if his lover is ready to come to properly.

Stretching his whole body out with a low groan, Antony slowly opens his eyes to find Stephen right there, dressed, watching him. "Hey. What time is it?"

Stephen smiles, "Mid morning, I let you sleep, you want some breakfast?" He reaches up to pet Antony's hairline, with his finger tips.

"I'll take some coffee if you've got some," Antony says, closing his eyes again for a moment at the touch. "How long you've been up?"

"Couple of hours," Stephen smiles and leans down pressing a kiss to Antony's brow. "I want you to relax today Sir," he murmurs against warm skin. "So let me get you coffee, and then when you want to eat let me know."

"Mm. Okay," Antony murmurs, still not entirely awake.

Smiling Stephen pushes up off the bed and heads out, returning minutes later with two mugs, he sets one down beside Antony and then he sets himself on the floor beside the bed.

Antony shifts across the bed so he's got a better view of Stephen. "You don't have anything you need to do today?"

Turning to set his arms on the edge of the bed, and his chin on his forearm. "No, I made sure I'd be free all weekend when I knew you'd be home," he smiles at his lover.

"Good. You in the mood to spend the better part of the day under?" Antony asks, finally sitting up and reaching for his coffee.

Stephen's brows go up. "I didn't expect you'd want that seen as you just got home, I thought you'd want to chill with me," he reaches out again, hand slipping under the covers seeking out skin, simply to touch. "What have you in mind?"

Antony reaches for Stephen's hand, taking it in his own, sipping at his coffee. "You, naked, prepped, mine to use whenever and however I want all day, but it's okay," he says, giving Stephen's fingers a squeeze. "It can wait. We can chill." He smiles.

"I'm more concerned about you," Stephen admits. "If you're up to it...then hell yeah...of course. I just...I don't want you pushing yourself when you need to have some down time."

"I'll have all the downtime I need when you're back at work," Antony says, lifting their hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to Stephen's knuckles. "Right now, I just want my boy."

More often than not Stephen forgets how integral him being 'boy' is to Antony's sex life...he's happy to be both lover and boy, but being the dominant is Antony's default - where, it seems, he is most comfortable, most fulfilled. "Okay, shall I go and prep then?" he asks softly.

"Prep here," Antony says, patting the bed. "I want to watch you."

"Okay, gimme a minute," Stephen rolls up onto his feet and leans in for a kiss. "Be right back."

Antony watches Stephen go, blowing on his coffee and then taking a sip. He wants to spend time with his lover, his boyfriend, but the thought of this, of using his boy, has been what's haunted his dreams for the past two weeks, made the dullest parts of waiting around on the job far more exciting.

Stephen's headed for the bathroom, he takes a piss, washes up and strips off. He takes a breath as he looks at himself in the mirror, it's been two weeks since he got to do this...when he exhales the tension leaves his body, leaving him pliant and loose.

When he appears at the bedroom door he's got eyes only for the man in the bed. "Sir."

"Boy." God. Antony settles back, taking a good long look at the man who is _his_. "Come prep yourself. Give me a show."

"It would be my pleasure Sir," Stephen smiles, he stops at the bedside to pick up the lube, and one of the towels they keep in a small pile for just this reason. He shakes out the towel and lays it on the bed before climbing up to present his ass for Antony's pleasure. Moments later lube sticky fingers seek out his hole and Stephen starts to play with himself, fingering his ass and gifting his Sir his pleasure noises as he does.

Antony makes his own soft noise of pleasure as he watches, eyes tracking those fingers, watching them move in and out, stretch tight muscle, his gaze flickering over his boy's back, those taut muscles, that perfect skin. Christ.

"It's all yours," Stephen murmurs, "All of me, it's all yours, you own me..." he reaches back now with his other hand, fingers seeking out the rim of his hole, tugging on it, opening himself.

Antony groans, his filling cock jerking roughly at the sight. "You ever fisted yourself?"

"No Sir," comes the muffled response, Stephen's eyes are closed, his forehead pressed to the bed.

"Ever watch anyone do it?" Antony asks, coffee in one hand, cock in the other as he slowly strokes, his eyes locked on the live porn in front of him.

"No Sir," Stephen groans as he starts to pull the edges of his hole, making himself gape a little, he pauses, adds more lube, and then starts again, fingering, opening, gaping...

"I'd like to see you do that. Fuck your cunt for me. Open it up so much I could slide right in," Antony says softly, more for the fantasy of it than anything.

"Now Sir?" Stephen lifts his head and looks back at his Sir, his fingers, slick with lube, deep inside himself. "Or would you like me to learn first?"

Fuck. "I want you to take your time," Antony says, after his brain resets itself. "Learn to do it properly. But right now? I want you to tell me whose cunt that is."

"It's yours, your cunt, it's a nasty greedy cunt, it loves being filled with Sir's cum, his piss," Stephen offers, his words rough. "Look Sir," he eases himself a little more, and then there it is, he can feel a rose forming as his ass opens more.

"Shift closer," Antony orders, his cock jerking violently against his palm, so fucking aroused he can barely breathe. "I want to touch it."

Inching backward, Stephen offers himself up, now he's working in one hand, his fingers coned as he fucks himself, his cock - though not hard - is dribbling precum on the towel beneath him, his skin is flushed pink. "Your cunt Sir...just like all of me, yours."

"Mine. Every fucking inch," Antony agrees, his voice low, thick with desire. "Push it out, boy."

So Stephen does, he bears down exposing himself even more, and then he withdraws his fingers, letting his Sir have an unhindered view of his hole.

"Dirty boy. That's it. Push it out for me," he urges, fingering that soft red skin, slicked with lube and tugging it a little more out from Stephen's body. "Keep it out there, pig."

"Yes Sir," Stephen's brain is slipping off into his happy place, Sir's touch and his nasty words nudge him there with ease. He whimpers at the feel of Antony's fingers on his hypersensitive flesh, and he keeps working to keep it out there, to keep himself open.

"Look at that. Look at that greedy cunt, hanging out there, begging to be fucked," Antony murmurs, pushing one finger into the center, the flesh closing around him. "Push it out, boy. You know how I like it."

"Please Sir...boy needs to feel it, feel Sir's cock fucking him, filling him, boy wants so much to have Sir's cum spilling out of his cunt like the dirty cum dump he is," Stephen rambles, he reaches for his own dick and tugs on it a little. "Please use boy..."

"Did I say you could touch yourself, boy?" Antony growls softly, but he's already put his cup aside and he's kneeling up, cock fitted to that perfect fucking rose, pushing slowly in.

The growl has Stephen snatching his hand away, pressing it against the bed. "Sorry Sir." He gasps as he feels his Sir shift and then that perfect intrusion, that pressure...that cock... "Oh thank you, thank you Sir."

Fuck. Antony watches as that rose blossoms around him, slowly disappearing back into Stephen's body as he moves deeper. He reaches forward, hooking his fingers through Stephen's collar and gives it a light tug, feeding every last fraction of an inch into his boy's ass. "This is mine," he says. "You're mine. Your cock, your cunt... I _own_ you, boy."

"I know Sir...and Stephen is honoured," Stephen presses back against Antony's hips, rolling his own to give his Sir added sensation.

Antony grins at that, his cock jerking inside his boy, inside his cunt. "You're the hottest bitch I've ever had, you know that?" he murmurs, pulling on the collar. "A true come slut."

"Only for you," Stephen returns, his voice hoarse as the collar tightens across his throat. He rises up a little to relieve the pressure. "Boy likes being your bitch..."

"Boy likes being bred," Antony goes on, fucking Stephen harder, pulling out to the tip every time before he bottoms out again and again. "Boy _lives_ to be my fucking come dump..." His own orgasm right there, so close he can almost taste it.

Stephen nods arching back into each thrust, using his body to pleasure his Sir in every way he knows how. "Stephen, boy, lives for his Sir...for Sir's pleasure," he groans out, "...for his Sir..."

"Which makes him a good boy," Antony says, letting go of the collar and spreading Stephen's cheeks so he can go even deeper, ride the pleasure coursing through his body. "Means he deserves to be filled with his sir's come." One thrust and then another before he comes with a gritted shout, cock pulsing hotly inside his boy, flooding his hole with his seed.

"Oh thank you..." Stephen rides back, sure he can actually feel Sir's cum inside, the hot wet of it filling him. "Thank you for using boy Sir. Thank you for marking him."

"You deserved it," Antony says, pulling out, groaning softly at the sight of his come /right there/, his thumbs keeping Stephen open. "Now don't you move, boy. I'm going to plug your cunt up so I can add to this later."

Stephen hums his understanding, more than happy to do this again, it always reminds him of their second night together, the night he asked Antony to be his Sir. The night that changed his life.

Antony grabs a thick black plug from the toy chest in the closet and slicks it with lube before twisting it home, his boy's ass fully-sealed, filled with his come. "I'm going to grab a quick shower, get dressed. I want you to stay naked and put together some toast and juice for me. You can put it on the coffee table and kneel beside it."

Pushing up to sit, Stephen watches Antony as he gives him his orders. He nods and murmurs a quiet, "Yes Sir." Pleased to be doing something for Sir, serving him. He climbs off the bed, picks up the towel and drops it in the laundry bin before heading to the guest bathroom to wash up. Only then does he move to the kitchen and set about making toast, juice, even slicing up some apple to put with it all. He's waiting, as instructed, kneeling, head down, when Sir appears.

"Good boy," Antony says, ruffling Stephen's hair and taking a seat on the couch. Sex always leaves him hungry and he digs in happily, leafing through the latest issue of The Economist while he eats.

It's not often that Stephen gets to kneel like this, least ways not with Antony. Cam used to ask it of him, but this is different, there is an easiness in his submission now, something Stephen hadn't known he'd lacked until Antony. Antony who - on the whole - makes submitting an utter joy, and rarely a chore. A small adjustment to his posture and Stephen settles, he lets himself watch his Sir, eating, reading, the self assurance is there, as always, his lover is still tired, Stephen can tell, the small lines of tension at the corners of his eyes haven't disappeared fully.

Glancing up from the magazine to find Stephen watching him, Antony smiles. "Hey, beautiful boy," he says, so incredibly pleased with his boy on every level there is.

Stephen's smile is as open and honest as possible, he lets his happiness shine through as he grins back. "Hey there, gorgeous Sir."

Antony's grin widens and distracted, he sets the magazine aside completely. "I want you to go get three things from the toy chest. Nothing having to do with your ass because that plug's not coming out yet but three things you can torment yourself with, and I want you to come back here and put on a show for me. Do it well enough and I'll let you come. I might even give you blanket permission for the rest of the day."

Stephen nods to show he's heard, and spends a few moments thinking. Then he rolls to his feet. "Anything not ass related? Anything?" he checks as he backs up toward the direction of the bedroom.

"Yup." Antony nods, interested to see what Stephen chooses. "Just remember, I want a good show and your coming depends on it."

"Yes Sir," Stephen heads off. First he hunts through their toy chest, pulling out a few things and one of the large disposable drop sheets they use when things are likely to get messy. He wraps the toys in a towel and carries it all back to the living room. With a smile he puts the towel to one side, and then moves the coffee table before shaking out the drop sheet and smoothing it into place. Then he sets the towel in the centre and disappears in the direction of the kitchen.

Fuck. This is already promising and Stephen's barely begun. Antony shifts in his seat, his mind running riot.

Stephen's palming what he went to get, giving Antony no clue what he's up to. He drops to his knees and slips his hand inside the towel, leaving the latest item and pulling out an adjustable rubber cock ring. He looks up, holds Antony's gaze as he spits on his hand and starts to stroke himself, with the sole intention of getting hard.

Antony stares back, gaze dropping only to take in his boy's fist and the growing hardness inside it, his body responding in kind.

"I can see you're getting hard, right along with me," Stephen murmurs. "I love your cock, I am greedy for that cock." He pauses here, his breath hitching as his dick kicks up, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. "Hmm," he hums as he reaches down to cup his balls and slide the rubber cock ring in place, he pulls one end to tighten it, making sure his erection is fully hard, purple in colour.

A soft groan spills from Antony's lips and he hisses in a breath, his T-shirt pushed up, his jeans opened, giving _some_ relief to already aching flesh.

"This," Stephen reaches into the towel again and pulls out a small estim with remote control, "is where there is a little audience participation," he explains, as he peels off the backing to two small pads. Inching his thighs even wider he sticks one as far up as he can go on the inside of each leg. Once they are in place he clips on the leads and adjusts the dials before offering the remote to his Sir. "There's one more thing."

"Yeah?" Antony takes the remote, quite enjoying this, thank you. Impressed by his boy's initiative.

"Yeah," Stephen nods, "Close your eyes Sir, just a moment?" he asks softly. His whole body is vibrating with the desire to please, to give his Sir the show he asked for.

Antony nods. "Okay." Doing just that and resisting the urge to peek.

Stephen had bought the candles while Antony was away, had intended to ask if they could try them, he'd been inspired after watching a scene at the club one night when he'd treated himself to dinner there. So he picks up the candle from beneath the towel, he'd chosen green - what else - and the lighter. Carefully he lights the wick and sets aside the lighter. Then, leaning back, one hand resting on the floor behind him, all the better to stretch out his torso, he holds the candle above him, braced. "Sir."

Antony opens his eyes and feels the breath go out of him just like that, Christ, his cock jerking so violently it's almost painful. "You're almost as wicked as your sir," he teases finally, when he's able to speak.

"Never," Stephen's reply is throaty, rough as he holds Antony's gaze. He slowly tips the candle, dripping the hot wax along the centre of his chest, his reaction confined to the fluttering of his abs and a sharp inhale.

Antony grins at that and then groans again, freeing his cock from his jeans so it can throb and pulse as much as it fucking wants, his eyes locked on his boy, his fingers just itching to play with the dials on the remote. "Keep going," he murmurs, giving in, the dials turned to their lowest setting.

"S'my show, not stopping any time soon," Stephen groans as the electrics have his thigh muscles trembling. He keeps dribbling the wax, lowering then raising the candle to adjust the bite of the heat, all the while he's moving lower, over his belly now. "See me," he demands quietly. "See me hurt for your pleasure."

 _Fuck_. Antony fists his cock in one hand, the remote laid on his thigh, his free hand controlling the dials as he turns them higher. "You look beautiful like this, gifting me your pain," he says, eyes locked on his boy, everything else in the world falling away.

Stephen keens softly as the pulsing in his thighs ramps up, it makes his cock jerk with each pulse, little beads of precum dampening the slit. "Can I...can boy gift you something...something that is already yours?" he questions, his voice catching as he tilts the candle, deliberately splashing the wax over his hips.

"Maybe not," Antony murmurs, his own cock kicking up at the words, at the confirmation, once again, of his ownership. "But I believe in showing my appreciation," he adds with a small wicked smile, turning the dials up another notch, his hand moving easily over his cock, keeping his arousal right where he wants it.

"Nnngggh," Stephen bites off his noise, and now he pushes up, so all his weight is back on his knees, he grasps the base of his cock and smears the precum over the head with his thumb. He takes a deep breath, and then lets it out as he dribbles the green molten wax all over the head of his penis, his body taut with pain as he does. When he's done, he's panting, his hands trembling.

"You're such a pain slut," Antony observes, his cock so fucking hard, his body so fucking close. "You want to come for me, boy?"

"Boy would like to hurt more...for Sir's pleasure," Stephen offers, his breath ragged, his skin flushed. There's a light sheen of sweat over his chest now, and the muscles in his belly and thighs twitch and dance as he hurts - but overriding it all is the perfect adrenaline rush, the endorphins that make his head fuzzy and his eyes dark.

Antony's smile grows wicked. "You think you can handle this on its highest setting?" he asks, already turning the dials up, his cock released for now, the better to pace himself.

"Hurt boy until he screams to stop...until Sir's sadism is satisfied," Stephen slurs, his hips rocking up in time with each electrical pulse. He adds more wax to his shaft, hissing as the liquid heat spatters over his most sensitive skin.

That's it. Fuck. Antony turns the dials to full power, something dark inside him craving that exactly. His boy screaming, begging him to stop, to let him stop.

Wherever the dials had been, it's a significant shift to where his Sir sets them now. Stephen stands absolutely no chance whatsoever in keeping still, indeed he sprawls, sliding off his heels as his thighs twitch, his abs pulsing in sympathy as he tries to ride out wave after wave of all consuming pain. He still holds the candle, but the wax splashes haphazardly all over his hips, thighs and genitals as his arm sways and jerks. He's unaware of the noises he's making, the pained keening, the stuttery little pleading noises...he simply endures it...because this is what was asked of him. _'...put a show on for me...'_

Eyes locked on his boy, drinking in his pain, Antony wraps his hand around his cock again, stroking himself to completion, thick hot white coating his fingers before he slowly turns the dials back, easing up just enough to give his boy some breathing room.

When the pain dips enough, Stephen takes the opportunity to attempt to extinguish the candle, he's aware his hold on it is not as firm as when he started, and the last thing he wants now is to drop it still lit.

It takes a couple of attempts, because his breathing is ragged, erratic. But once it's done he sets it down, leaning back once more to extend his torso, to display himself, sweat sheened, spattered in green wax, in pain...

Antony reaches for his phone with his clean hand, taking several pictures, then shifts forward, extending the hand still slick with his come towards his boy. "Clean it up, boy," he orders.

Stephen moans and pushes upright before dropping forward onto his hands and knees, so he can shuffle in, tongue already extended to start cleaning. Sucking each finger he finally swipes the knuckles and the palm with greedy licks, his breath ghosting hot and stuttered over his Sir's skin.

"Good boy," Antony breathes, eyes closed, savouring every swipe of Stephen's tongue, his cock still throbbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. "Kneel back."

Stephen takes one last lick, he can taste his Sir's skin under the salty tang of his cum, a taste he knows intimately. When he sets himself back on his heels, his entire body is thrumming, trembling with the bite of the estim, and the agonising ache of his obscenely swollen cock.

"Hm. Look at this," Antony murmurs, running a finger down the side of Stephen's wax-covered flesh before grasping his balls in his hand and giving them a squeeze. "Does it hurt, boy?" Of course it does. He knows it does. Every fucking muscle in his boy's body is screaming that it does. But he wants to _hear_ it.

"Yes!" Stephen hisses out, spittle clinging to his lower lip, his face flushed with the struggle to ride out the pain. "Yes, yes, yes it hurts...so much."

"And I bet coming through that ring will hurt even more, won't it?" Antony points out, roughly kneading Stephen's balls.

"I don't care," Stephen stutters, arching into that wicked caress, "But please Sir...please let me...I hurt so much..."

Antony smiles, every writhe of pain feeding his pleasure. "Go ahead, boy," squeezing tight. "Come for me."

"Please may I touch?" Stephen's hand comes up, ready to touch himself, but he waits, needing permission, even as desperate as he is. "Pleasepleaseplease?"

Any other time there's a good chance Antony would say no, but now, after the show Stephen's given him? He nods.

Wrapping his hands around his shaft, Stephen squeezes and jerks, his actions frantic. The wax cracking and breaking off in tiny little fragments as he works himself the few strokes it takes to reach his climax. When he orgasms Stephen's practically screaming it in his Sir's face, the culmination of exquisite pain and perfect pleasure.

"Yeah, that's it..." Antony murmurs, breathing it all in. "Beautiful..."

When the crisis is done, Stephen is left slumped, his breathing raw, shoulders rounded, chin dipped to his chest, his hand still wrapped around his cock, his cum dripping from his fingers onto the sheet beneath him.

"Good boy." Antony releases his grip on Stephen's balls and turns the estim off. He plucks the pads from his boy's thighs and then cups the back of his neck, fingers hot over the metal of his collar. "Clean your fingers and then give me a kiss."

Mindlessly Stephen lifts his hand to his mouth and starts sucking off the strings of cum from his hand, he pauses to grimace, and pick a small piece of green wax from his tongue before continuing, until he thinks he's done enough. Then he tilts his head back, to look glassy eyed at his Sir and offer his mouth.

Antony gives him a kiss and then slowly starts peeling off the wax. Some of it he'll take off in the tub but since they have the drop cloth... "You're my good boy," he murmurs as he works. "So fucking good for me. That was so hot." He smiles. "And you know what you get for that?"

Stephen merely blinks as his Sir's hands move over him, he's spaced out on a serious endorphin dump, exhausted from riding the pain, drained from his orgasm. He's about as far gone as he's ever been.

"You get to come as much as you want for the rest of the day," Antony says, green wax sticking under his fingernails as he cleans up his boy. "But let's get you cleaned up and then you can curl up with me on the couch."

"Yessir," the words are slurred, and Stephen's not entirely processed what's been asked of him, he just knows he has to keep obeying his Sir's requests.

Antony gets Stephen to the bathroom and into the shower, the water turned on full blast, nice and hot, as he strips down and joins him, washing the last of the wax and come from his boy's skin.

Whilst Stephen would have been more than happy to just collapse in a heap where he was, he also loves having his Sir's hands on him like this. Possessive and loving, firm and sure. He moves as directed, but remains silent, his brain still off line, his focus on his Sir.

They don't linger in the shower. Antony cleans up his boy, gets him dried off and wrapped in a big fluffy towel while he dries himself and slips his jeans back on and then it's back to the living room, where he wraps Stephen up in a throw on the couch while he cleans up the drop cloth and the 'toys' from Stephen's show.

"I should do that," Stephen murmurs, watching his Sir tidy up after him. He's buried under the blanket, experience tells him he'll be getting cold any time soon, which is a sure sign his subspace is easing off.

"No, you should stay where you are and keep warm," Antony responds, ducking down for a kiss before he moves the last of the stuff from the living room. That done, he joins Stephen, lifting his boy's head and placing it on his lap as he settles in, magazine in hand again.

Stephen lets himself doze for a few minutes, the quiet closeness of his Sir is soothing and grounding, exactly what it needs to be. When he blinks awake, more aware of himself, he turns his head to look up along Antony's torso. "Talk to me," he murmurs the request. "Please."

"About what?" Antony asks, setting his magazine aside and smiling down at his boy. "Our next trip?"

Stephen hums and nods, "Yeah, where do you want to take me?" He shifts a little turning around so his face is nestled up against Antony's belly.

"Italy," Antony says without a moment's hesitation. "Rome, Florence, Venice. We could do a day trip from Florence to one of the Tuscan hill towns. We could even make it down to Pompeii or leave that for the next time."

Stephen smiles, "I'd love that, so long as we have down time too, time to just hang out together." He glances up to find his Sir looking down at him. "You speak Italian right?"

"Si," Antony nods. "Parlo fluentemente."

That makes Stephen laugh and he nuzzles his face into Antony's belly, so his breath dances over hair dusted skin. "I love you, I love how fucking smart you are, and how in no way do you boast about it," he reaches up to finger Antony's dog tags. "Will you teach me? Enough to mind my manners at least?"

"Sure. I'll teach you all the important stuff. Hello, goodbye, please, thank you, where's the bathroom?" He grins. "How much is this? Are you fucking kidding me?" He starts laughing.

And it's there that Stephen sees the very last of the tension Antony bought home with him bleed away. "I know the word for whore..." he admits, laughing alongside his Sir. "But what is Sir? And what is 'boy' and all those other names you call me?" He quirks a brow. "It's only polite to use the local language after all!"

"Signore is sir and ragazzo is boy. As for the others..." Antony shakes his head, amused, thinking for a moment. "Sorca, figa, are both cunt, or close enough. Maiale is pig. Cazzo giocatallo is fuck toy." He laughs. "I've never really done the whole humiliation thing in Italian."

"I bet it sounds even hotter in Russian, or German, something hard sounding," Stephen pushes up a little and lets the blanket pool around his hips. "Be hot in a scene..." he hints, thinking about how fucking intense it would be to have Antony interrogate him in a language he cannot understand.

"Either of those are good, more edge to them," Antony agrees with a smile, touching the skin bared. "I could speak another language, you could wear those leather pants," his eyes sparkling wickedly, crinkling at their corners. "You know, Citadel has real dungeons."

"Can we?" Stephen looks hopeful, and not at all like he's still recovering from their last little 'interlude'. "You'd wear your boots for me too? Please?"

Christ. Could Stephen _be_ any more perfect for him? "Yeah. Of course. I can set something up for next weekend if you want?"

"Can we do it right at the beginning of my time off? That way I can take some marks," Stephen offers, turning his head to press a kiss to Antony's chest. "We can go all out."

"You mean, after Italy? Your big break?" Antony asks.

"Yeah...you want to push me harder, right? I mean really break me down?" They've talked about it..about how far they might go, but never made any concrete plans...and Stephen knows he's pushing. He wonders if Antony's sure they're both ready for it.

"I do, and that would be a good time for it," Antony says, smiling at Stephen. "If we're going to do this, I want time after to make sure you're fully recovered and a weekend won't do it."

'...a weekend won't do it...' The thought that Antony will hurt him so much it will take more than a weekend to recover from...yeah it thrills and terrifies Stephen in turn. He's already being pushed more than he's ever experienced before, not just physically, but also in the method and application of his submission. His gaze drops and he watches Antony's fingers sliding over his skin.

"How are you feeling now?" Antony asks, pushing the blanket a little lower, his fingers trailing after it.

"Okay," Stephen nods, his word soft and low. His abs dance as Antony caresses him, and his breath catches. "Still a little twitchy." He tips his head to look up. "What about you? How's your back?"

"It hurts but you made me forget about it while you were doing your show," Antony says, fingers moving still lower, seeking out his boy's cock.

"Good, I'm glad," Stephen reaches up to press his hand against Antony's cheek to turn his face down to him. "You should take some more pain killers," then he smiles, "And maybe try and take it easy?"

"Is that a hint that I shouldn't try to molest my boy more?" Antony teases, stroking that still-ringed flesh.

"It's a hint to take care of yourself," Stephen returns, grinning, even as his hips tilt up into the touch. "A broken Sir is no use to this boy, just the same way Stephen would prefer a whole and healthy Tony to love."

Antony nods. "Yeah, I know," he murmurs, touched by his lover's concern. It's new, having someone interested in his welfare, that interest unmotivated by money. "I'll take it easy," he promises, sliding into a grin again. "Make my boy do all the work."

"Isn't that what I've done so far today?" Stephen grins back, then his smile turns a little hotter, a little lewd. "How about you let your boy pleasure you? His way?"

As always, Antony has plans. It's just the way he is. But he's also flexible, able to switch tacks at the drop of a hat when the situation calls for it. "Okay." He nods again.

Stephen wriggles up, until he can lean in, he presses kisses along Antony's jaw until he gets to his ear, he sucks on the flesh of his lobe before whispering, "Boy would like you to lay on the bed, face down and allow him to worship your ass..."

Christ. For the third time today, Antony's cock starts to fill again, Stephen's mouth and those very simple words going straight to it. His lips curve into a small smile and he twists his head, capturing Stephen's mouth in a kiss before murmuring his assent.

He waits until Antony's done kissing him before he murmurs, "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good," the promise punctuated by a sharp little nip to Antony's bottom lip.

Antony groans at that and rises to his feet, pulling his boy with him to their bedroom. He only put his jeans back on after their shower so he drops those now, his half-hard cock pressed against his stomach as he crawls onto the bed and stretches out, face down.

Stephen watches his Sir sprawl out, and he cocks a brow. "Oh no...hold up..." And then he's off gathering up pillows and a towel. "Up," he directs as he sets the pillows alongside Antony. "I'm not rushing this, and I want you to be comfortable, and for me not to crick my neck," he points out, dipping his head to press a kiss to Antony's temple. "I want your ass up if I'm going to do this properly."

Antony laughs, letting Stephen arrange him as he wants him.

Creating what is essentially a 'sex slope' out of pillows, Stephen drapes the towel over it and then directs Antony into place. "What an amenable Sir I have," he teases, giving one perfect ass cheek a squeeze. "Now...your fuck toy would like to know if he's allowed to use his fingers also...or just his mouth."

"You can use your fingers," Antony replies. "Just... be careful."

So Stephen reaches for the lube beside the bed before he settles himself down between Antony's spread thighs. "Be careful? Really? You think I'm about to shove my fist up your ass?" he jokes as he placed his hands on Antony's butt and gives each cheek an appreciative squeeze. "Ugh, even the thought of that makes my world tilt."

Antony laughs and just shakes his head. "It wouldn't take anywhere near a fist before it'd be too much," he murmurs, although he appreciates that the idea turns Stephen on.

"Not a size queen then?" Stephen's all smiles as he settles himself in. "Do you not let anyone fuck you then? Ever?" He asks as he lets his fingers trail up the underside of his Sir's ball sac to the skin behind and just beneath his hole, gentle stroking caresses designed to arouse.

"Not these days," Antony says, groaning softly. "I did, when I was younger, a couple of times, but it's not my thing."

"Not your thing? A prostate orgasm is not your 'thing'?" Stephen's shaking his head as he dips his head to press a kiss to the dip at the base of Antony's spine. "You, my beautiful, sensual man, are missing out," he murmurs as he slides his tongue down the crease to press his lips to Antony's hole.

"If I'd ever had one that way, I might have-- fuck," Antony gets out, hips shifting away and then back into Stephen's touch.

Flickering his tongue against the fluttering ring of muscle, Stephen's fingers tighten on the fleshy globes of Antony's ass. He lifts his head once more, to press kisses back up to that little dimple. "You've never had one?" His voice is rougher now, his own arousal at this act making his tone throaty.

"A prostate orgasm? No." Antony shakes his head. He's pretty sure there's a lot of guys who haven't.

"M'k," Stephen mumbles as he starts to set about nuzzling and kissing back down to Antony's asshole, he licks over and around it, broad swipes of his tongue, then teasing fluttering with just the tip. One hand cups his Sir's testicles, rolling them in his palm.

Antony curses under his breath, spreading his legs a little wider, his cock continuing to fill with every swipe of Stephen's tongue.

Once he's got Antony's hole nice and wet, Stephen slicks up his fingers and starts to use those instead, circling the pucker before dipping in just the tip of one finger.

"Mm." Antony shifts against the pillow, his eyes closed, his breathing heavier, working on keeping his body relaxed, open for Stephen.

"S'okay," Stephen murmurs, nuzzling kisses against one hair dusted butt cheek. "You trust me, I won't push," he promises, pulling back to rubbing over the now lube greasy hole, before trying again.

"I know," Antony nods, grunting softly as Stephen's finger penetrates him, sliding deeper than before, his cock twitching at the feel of it.

He'd tucked Antony's dick down, so he had access to it, and so it wasn't squashed beneath his Sir's body while he did this, so he can see just what effect he's having. With one hand he strokes that firm, thick flesh, and with the other he continues that light fingering.

"Fuck," Antony breathes, hands curling into fists, gripping the sheets beneath him, cock jerking in Stephen's grasp. It feels good, his body both relaxed and tense at the same time.

Stephen smiles, mesmerised as he watches his Sir's body shift beneath him. The muscles along his back dance, one side covered in those wicked bruises, the other practically unblemished. His shoulders roll as he tenses then relaxes. One fingertip eventually becomes two, and Stephen leans in to add his tongue to the mix.

A rough groan spills from Antony's mouth at that, his cock spurting a little precome, and he shivers, laughing at himself. "Feels good," he murmurs, although he's pretty fucking sure Stephen can already tell that.

Which is exactly what Stephen was aiming for. He works his tongue in along with his fingers, which slip deeper as Antony relaxes, and just to add to his Sir's pleasure, Stephen starts to give up his noises too, the happy groans of pleasure as he laps at his Sir's ass, tasting him, worshipping him.

"Oh, fuck, yeah," Antony groans, biting at his lower lip as his cock throbs, dampening the towels beneath him, Stephen's mouth and fingers pushing him that much closer to the edge.

Lifting his head a little, Stephen watches as his fingers slip deeper, deep enough for him to wonder...he flutters the pads of those fingers, searching - hoping. The whole crease of Antony's ass is shiny with spit and lube.

Antony jerks like he's been clipped by a live wire, more precome spurting from his cock. "Fuck..." It's not like he's never had his prostate touched, but it's been years and there wasn't so much arousal already involved in the first place.

"More?" Stephen husks out the question, "Sir? Do you want more?"

Antony nods. "Yeah. Keep going," anything more than that completely beyond him right now.

And that is all the permission Stephen needs. So he twists his fingers a little and goes after his Sir's prostate with purpose, petting over it as he licks and sucks around where his fingers disappear inside Antony.

Cursing under his breath, Antony arches his back, his injuries complaining loudly. Pushes back into that touch, that wicked mouth, those devilish fingers. Christ. Pleasure building and building until the touch is _too_ much and he pulls away, his orgasm already shuddering through him.

Gentling his touch, the licks turn to kisses, and his fingers still as Antony's body contracts around them. His nose is full of his Sir's musky male scent and the bleach sharp aroma of fresh semen. When Antony goes limp Stephen slides his fingers free and wipes them on the towel before moving up to stroke along his Sir's back with tentative, soothing strokes. "Tony?"

Antony opens his eyes and gives Stephen a smile. "Yeah?"

"That was good yeah?" Stephen lays along side Antony, so he can rest his head along side that of his lover and reach up to run his fingers along one sweaty brow.

"That was great," Antony agrees with a soft laugh. "So there you go, there was still a first to get from me."

"Maybe next time you'll let me do it while I'm sucking you off?" Stephen raises a brow in question, his amusement obvious.

"Stop gloating and I will," Antony grins.

"I am not gloating!" Stephen shakes his head and laughs and rolls over onto his back. "Are you gonna move? Get your butt out of the air?"

Antony laughs, punching Stephen lightly on the shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that look said gloating," he insists, mostly teasing, shifting off the towel and pillows, everything pushed off the bed to clean up later. "But I didn't say you didn't deserve to."

"Of course I deserve it, I gave my Sir an amazing orgasm after a pretty awesome ass worship session," And now Stephen really does look smug as he lifts an arm, "C'mere," he urges his tone more gentle. "Let me hold you." Because he's missed that.

Antony moves in, under Stephen's arm, wincing slightly as his back twinges rather painfully again. "Remind me to take some more painkillers when we get up," he says, kissing Stephen, tasting himself on his boy, his lover.

"Yes Sir," Stephen murmurs against Antony's mouth. "Now will you just relax and rest? Please?"

"Yes." Antony nods, getting comfortable, a soft exhale slipping from him as he does. "Love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
